Cheated
by Angelic Reprobate
Summary: Ron hates Hermione's job. Hermione hates what Ron's done. Harry hates Hermione. But one wizard wants her. The one she helped defeat. No Disclaimer inside so it's here until i stop being lazy. I don't own Harry Potter. ex pen-name ilovesiriusorionblack
1. Chapter 1

**Cheated**

**Hi everyone, this is my first Hermione/Voldemort Story. I will almost never write sweet reformed Voldemort, he's Voldemort. Even though he can't pronounce his own name correctly, it's Vol-der-mor, even if it spelt the same, stupid non-French knowing wizard. No I have not forgotten my other stories, but I had to write this for school and I liked it so I posted it on here, tell me what you think. Currently it's a one-shot but tell me if you think I should write more.**

**gsalilsecret formerly ilovesiriusorionblack. **

"Stupid Ron, stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid Harry, stupid, stupid." Hermione cursed herself.

Of course Harry, _Saint Harry Potter, _would support Ron, the best friend through everything, even when he left them. She was only the strategist.

Sitting in some dodgy bar in Knocturn Alley wasn't really safe for her, the mudblooded supposed best friend of Harry Potter, the wizarding worlds saviour, but Hermione she was glamoured well, no one would suspect the pretty, leggy blonde with perfect straight hair was the same short, bushy haired mudblood that Potter hung around with.

Sighing in exasperation Hermione called for another shot of firewhiskey. Stupid Ron, arrogant, incompetent, useless, pureblooded, bloodtraitor bigot. She'd show him a real witch. Real witches don't sit around home, having numerous kids and cooking dinner, being there during the night for him to use for a few minutes before rolling off and falling asleep leaving her to finish herself. They were independent, they worked themselves. But no, Ronald Bilius Weasley could only be satisfied with a woman like his mother; she was no Mrs. Weasley, even though she once wanted to be.

Why, why couldn't Ron accept that her job required skill and time, after all she _was _looking after the most feared wizard of all time, Tom I-am-Lord-Voldemort Riddle. Ron couldn't understand how she could do that job, why she accepted, no matter how many times she told him. Harry disagreed too, saying that there were older more experienced witches and wizards to do the job. Her relationship with her best friend and boyfriend went into a downward spiral from then on. Neither realised that he needed to be exposed to a confident powerful Muggle-born, he needed to realise that Muggles and Muggle-borns were not slaves. She was the best for the job, she was a muggle born, she was powerful, she had helped defeat him so she wasn't afraid to stand up to him, at least not now. She had been terrified at first, almost freaking out and running away, but she had made the decision to do this and now her life was in disarray.

He had to depend on her; she brought him books and company, not to mention better food. The books she brought were almost always Muggle books. He had reacted badly when she first brought them refusing to read them and talk to her, so being Hermione, she read and made the conversation, talking about herself. Only afterwards did she realise that he had learnt much more than he needed to know about her, and she only knew what people had told her. The next day he had talked to her about the books, they were the only thing he had in his cell. From then on the cycle was the same, she would bring books and food, they would talk about his previous reads, he would criticise, she would debate his point, he would eat. Sometimes he even allowed her to stay for a longer portion of the night than usual, at first they had talked, eventually it escalated, Ron could never compare to the limits that Tom made her hit. It was always when she didn't want to go home to Ron and face his resenting glares, she had something better. No! Tom didn't allow her to stay, she chose to, he had no choice, if she wanted him, he had no say in the matter. But he did.

Shaking the traitorous thoughts from her head, his arms that held her at night, his smirk of satisfaction, his newly grown hair, the way he kissed she till she was dizzy, the way he actually let her be pleasured be he was. No, this was _not _what she should be thinking about; she should be thinking about Ron, even though it hurt, she had to. Hermione couldn't understand it, Ron always said he loved her; he had always been the one more into the idea of a relationship, more passionate about it, but there he was, kissing a shirtless Lavender Brown his once ex-girlfriend, one of his hands in her hair, the other moving towards her skirt, hers on up his shirt. Her world shattered, Ron was cheating on her with Lavender, _Lavender Brown_, of all people. She was what he thought a real witch was. She fled to Harry's, sure he would understand, incredibly he supported Ron, she had, he said, brought this on herself by refusing to listen to them about the former Dark Lord. He was her best friend, yet he supported her cheating boyfriend. Unable to stand it anymore, she glamoured herself and came to this shabby little bar and attempted to drown her sorrows.

Hermione didn't know why she had come here, well she did but she wasn't admitting it, he had no power over her, none. Unable to bear it, she looked at the only empty table, reserved for Lord wand-up-his-arse Voldemort and his brainless Death Eaters. Tom had mentioned this place once or twice, that was why she was here, and the reason she was drinking this brand of firewhiskey, Tom again, it was his favourite.

"I didn't know I had so much influence over you, my little mudblood." If it hadn't been for the soft brush of lips on her ear Hermione would have been sure she imagined the whisper.

"Tom!" Hermione gasped "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in a cell, where you're safe."

"I'm always safe, mudblood, as if anyone would dare to attack Lord Voldemort; I'm more powerful than everyone in this bar even without a wand. To answer you previous question," he sat down and motioned for a shot of the firewhiskey, "the guard was far too easy to imperious, no restraint at all, quite pathetic really, I assume he was a mudblood."

"Tom, I'm a _mudblood._" Hermione all but hissed indignantly.

"Perhaps, but your much more than that," he whispered as he down his shot, Hermione imitating, "You're my mudblood, so you're better than even my purest Death Eaters, not to mention much more fun than Bellatrix." Hermione knew there was no point arguing.

"Leave with me Hermione," he said suddenly, "I'm not staying in this filthy hole of a country, we'll go somewhere else, I'll build up my forces and you, you can rule beside me, my Dark Lady. I'll even let you have Weasley for your vengeance. Whatever you want to do to him, I'll let you."

How did he do it, his voice, even whilst talking about things she abhorred, was slowly pulling at her, seducing her.

"I don't…"

"Know? Don't think, use your instincts. I know you want me Hermione, I see it in your eyes, I feel it in your magic, with every night we spend together; let me bring out your inner Slytherin."

Wordlessly Hermione took his advice, placing her hand trustingly into Tom's, the latter apparating them away from the dodgy Knocturn Alley bar, away from England just as the old wireless crackled to life

"The most infamous wizard of all time, You-Know-Who has escaped from his high security cell. The guard has signs of the imperious curse being used. Top suspects are being interrogated. No known suspects have been released. If he is seen do not approach, remember he is highly dangerous. Please call the aurors."


	2. Chapter 2

**Cheated**

Thank you to everyone who has, reviewed, favourite and alerted, you gave me the inspiration to continue, I hope you like this chapter just as much. Please tell me what to improve on.

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Midnight Lost.

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**SuGoi:** Yes I do know French and yes I do know that it is Vol-de-mort, but that doesn't tell people how to pronounce it, I know because I have non-French speaking friends and the would have said it exactly as it looks, with the de as dee, and mort with the t sound, I was writing it out as it's pronounced, not to mention that with a t sound it becomes feminine.

**I don't own Harry Potter, which sucks because it would be and awesome thing to own.**

**gsalilsecret formerly ilovesiriusorionblack. **

* * *

Messy light brown hair surrounded a young twenty-two year olds head, as it lay on a pillow. The woman's chest rose and fell under the covers, almost perfectly in time with the man next to her. His short black hair fell towards the bed, pulled by gravity.

Two years, it had been two years since the sudden disappearance of the infamous Lord Voldemort, and his keeper, Hermione Granger. No one knew where they were and that was the way it would be kept, for now. Hermione wanted her revenge, and so did her husband. Both wanted to see the death of a pair of best friends.

Hermione woke with a small sigh of relief; she had been reliving the same memory that haunted her in her dreams almost every night. Ron, Ron and Lavender. That man stealing bitch, or maybe it should be man eating bitch, after all she had already moved on, if Hermione's sources were telling the truth, and somehow she thought they were.

Hermione felt no shame as she stepped out of bed naked, after all she was the only one awake, and her husband had seen it all before, stretching to loosen her muscles, she wandered into the bathroom, she needed a shower, then maybe breakfast. That sounded like a good idea. Through the window the French dawn spilled through the window.

The water ran in rivulets down her body, soothing her sore muscles and brushing lightly against the bruises from last night. It didn't bother her; she seemed to be part masochist. Hermione used the shampoo Tom gave her when he finally got fed up with the muggle chemically smelling shampoo she used to use. Her hair had not once tamed naturally and Hermione accepted that she had lost the war on frizz. Eyes closed, she was startled when suddenly arms wrapped around her middle and lips pressed to her neck.

"Morning, beautiful. There's a meeting today that we need to attend, about the new Minister of Magic, seems we have a good chance of winning." The low baritone was enough to make Hermione want to skip the meeting altogether.

* * *

She always hated these meetings, they were full of people trying to suck up to her husband and her, half of them didn't know she was a mudblood, and the other half that did were split, either they didn't care because their Lord didn't or they ignored her. Hermione couldn't care less. They were pathetic; they couldn't think for themselves and were always grovelling. There was one small change that mad Hermione more accepting of these Death Eaters, they weren't a bunch of idiots like the previous generation, these ones had been chosen better.

"My Lord, Actron Boscut already has the most support from England, it is guaranteed that he will win the election, the Ministry will be under your control."

"Excellent news, Jameson." The dark hiss the Death Eaters knew so well whispered softly. "However we must rid the muggle-lovers and Potter supporters from the Head of Department spots at the Ministry. Marcel, I assume I can count on you for a scandal."

"Of course my Lord, I'll make sure that only our _most respectable _people are at the top."

Marcel Angel was one of the best Death Eaters under Voldemort's command, she was also the one Hermione hated the most. She was cunning and manipulative, a sure Slytherin, if she had ever gone to Hogwarts, she was home schooled as her pureblood parents didn't want her mixing with _mudblood _filth. Hermione hated her for several reasons; one, she had the looks that Hermione has always envied, a pretty, tall, slender blonde with easily managed hair and two, she constantly tried to take her husband from her. She was the best at getting male supporters and creating scandals with male representatives as well, but she had a Bellatrix complex and wanted Hermione's Tom.

There was hardly any more information after this one crucial piece, and none of them were of any value. Hermione just wanted to go back to her room, or maybe, just maybe back to England. She hadn't seen her parents in two years, for their own safety. They were supposed to be safe, that was why she lifted the memory charm, but when she left with Tom, she put them in danger again. This time from the Ministry and the Order of Self-righteousness, if she ever went back then they were sure to use her family to locate her. Though, surely after two years they wouldn't care, they would assume that she wasn't going to see them, it would be perfect.

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" What had once been a soft hiss was now a clear voice.

"My parents," Hermione said with a sigh, "I want to see them, it's been two years, they won't be looking anymore, I just want to see them, say good bye properly. Make sure they know that I love them and that I left for the best."

"No. It's too dangerous, wait just one month Hermione, one month, once the election is won is our favour, you can see them, the ministry will lift their spells around them, I'll ensure it but you cannot get captured, do have any idea what they'd do to you?"

"Imprison and torture me, in the vain hope that I'll tell them where you are. I won't let that happen. I'm stronger than they are; you know that, you taught me to be stronger."

She wouldn't lose this time, she would win, she would go to see her parents, now, or whenever she wanted to. It was her choice.

"No Hermione. You're mine, you agreed to that, so you'll do as I say. You are not to go back to England or see you parents until I say so. There's no point in getting captured, then I have to go and save you and I have better things to be doing."

"You have better thing to be doing?" Hermione was beyond pissed. "So what am I Tom? A liability, is that all, I'm just your pet, your toy? You can't tell me what to do, they're my parents and I get to decide when I see them, not you. I agreed to marry you, I didn't agree to be you slave, I'm a free woman."

"Exactly, Hermione." His lips curled. "You're a woman; therefore you shall look to your husband for direction. Now go do something useful, like read."

"It's the 21st Century, Tom. Women have rights now! In fact here we got the right to vote when you were two, and that was in the muggle world, witches had the right to vote and be independent centuries before that!"

"It's a façade for woman to have 'rights'. The society is still patriarchal, so you will listen to me and not go back to England. I have given you a life here; don't try to throw it away."

"Fuck you." Hermione stormed off, her rage actually making her hair crackle.

He's a stupid, disgusting precocious little brat. So used to getting everything he wants, well fuck him. I'm seeing my parents and he can't stop me. Hermione knew that he was right, it wasn't safe but it didn't matter. She'd show him, she could take care of herself.

Smiling with her new plan, Hermione walked out of the gates to the Manor that Tom had bought them and turned apparating to a block away from her parents' home. She'd show him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Cheated**

Thank you to everyone who has, reviewed, favourite and alerted, here is the chapter that has been long awaited, I have the next chapter written up, so now I just need to find it, I think it's in last year's Science Book, or maybe my English folder... Please tell me what to improve on.

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**I think almost every writer here has established that none of us will ever own Harry Potter, I'm no different.**

Hermione Riddle flicked the hood of her cloak up, she was lucky not all of her clothing was black, as she had succeeded in pointing out to her husband, it was far too conspicuous. The blue velvet draped perfect around her head and body, ensuring that she was hidden but unlikely to arouse suspicion. She smirked; oh she would _definitely_ show him.

The gates parted as she strode out, the cloak flaring behind her in a way reminiscent of the very dead Severus Snape. All Hermione had to do now was to get away from the Manor's wards and view, apparated repeatedly to random locations to throw off any trackers and she was free. Free to go back home to England, to Birmingham, to the Granger household, well she was free until someone alerted her husband to her disappearance.

_Crack_-Italy  
_Crack-_Bulgaria  
_Crack-_Russia

She was well aware that she had just broken several international laws, not that she ever really cared about rule breaking anymore, it was a side effect of running away with a criminal. Still the law breaking had served its purpose, she was sure that there was no longer anyone following her. She closed her eyes and thought of home. Of the neatly trimmed grass and weed less flower beds, of the old beech outside her window that rattled the glass with spidery fingers, of the neutral lounge and the garish halls, of her parents with their smiling, welcoming faces, always so full of love.

_Crack_

And there it all was, everything almost the same, the only difference was the front fence which had obviously been white washed since her last time here, she had restored Jean and Robert Granger's memories and spent almost two months living with them; suffering happily through Jeans cooking and savouring every meal made by Robert. She was so happy, she had done it.

"Hermione is that you? My God! Robert, come quick! Hermione's come home!" In a rush of sweet perfume Hermione felt the arms flung around her cling as if to never let go.

A long dormant rush of love filled her heart. Hermione knew it was actually her magic mixing with her mother's deeply buried magic but it felt amazing, it felt comforting, it felt right.

"Baby doll?" Hermione tore away from Jean and embraced Robert in a fierce hug.

"Mum, Dad. I missed you so much."

* * *

"The Order told us what happened. How did you survive?" Jean sipped a cup of tea; she faced her daughter watching her with delight.

"Wait what?" How did the order know, they couldn't have could they? Hermione looked around almost expecting the Order to rush in with wands drawn.

"Poor girl," Robert crooned," Harry and Ron came to tell us. They were both devastated. They kept apologising for not looking after you properly. Eventually we got it out of them that you had been kidnapped by Voldemort. They said it was because you had been looking after him. You never should have taken that job, Hermione, if we'd known…" he trailed off.

"I didn't get kidnapped," Hermione started, "I left with Tom willingly. I don't think either boy told you the whole story." She never talked about what had happened, not even with Tom. It was always buried, now she was sure that it would hurt, "Ron cheated on me, with his ex, Lavender Brown. I had come home early to grab a report and I caught them in the act. I went to a bar with full intentions of drinking myself under the table. That was the night Tom broke out of Azkaban. He found me with little hassle, and proceeded to convince me to leave with him. We travelled and a year or so later, we married. I'm happy with him. He protects me like Ron never did, I might not need protection but he still provides it. I don't know if he loves me, he scorns the idea of love, but what I feel from him is a lot closer to love than what Ron ever felt for me." She had been right, the old pains the old wounds had resurfaced, but thinking of Tom no matter how annoyed he would be at her was like a Band-Aid, it helped the pain.

"But, Hermione, he's evil. He hates people like us, like you. You told us so yourself, you said you were glad he was locked away. Why would you marry him and betray your friends?"

"NO!" Hermione's hair crackled, "Ron betrayed and hurt me. He slept with Lavender Brown and broke my trust."

"Shh, Hermione, calm down, lovey," Hermione slowed her breathing, practising a meditation technique Tom had taught her, "Now darling, how does Tom show he loves you. Is it that her doesn't hurt you or gives you rewards?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "You think I have Stockholm Syndrome. I don't actually, Tom is all too happy to let me know when he's displeased. And rewarding me would be patronising. I need Tom; he cares for me and ensures I have the best life possible." There was really no need to mention any rewards that Tom did give her, those were deeply personal.

Robert glanced at the cups and stood up, "I think we all need more tea."

It was a few awkward minutes of silence whilst the tea was prepared in which Hermione toyed with her wedding ring, it was a nervous habit. She was wondering if coming here had been a bad idea, maybe Tom had been right, not that she would ever admit that to him, his ego was large enough.

"Here you are baby doll," Robert shifted uncomfortably as he sat down and passed Jean her tea.

_This tea is good. _Hermione thought sleepily. T_hey must have used a more calming blend this time. I suppose all that apparating must have tired me out._ She felt her eyes droop and saw her parents rush forward to stop her falling. As she felt their arms around her she had only one last thought _I'm home._

**So? Was it good, did I miss anything? Any ideas that you want me to somehow try to work in? I really hope that this chapter did the others and this story justice, my God I never really understood how hard it is to write speech, sigh.**


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